Up at 6:45AM to go from Brooklyn to Grand Central to my PT clinic in an Equinox. It occurred to me today that I’m doing PT in the same building where I had my first job, the job that fired me after three months and convinced me to resign so I was, unbeknownst to me, giving up my right to unemployment insurance. Since it happened nineteen years ago, I’m starting to see both the humor and cunning in that move. But they really were shitty people.

I can’t tell if PT is working but I feel no pain when walking. I completed my volunteer shift for New York Road Runners on Saturday morning at the Jingle Bell Jog in Prospect Park, which means I’m in for the marathon in 2019. So, PT had better be working.

The clinic I got to has a “No Smoking, No Vaping” sign in it and I wonder how lax they were that they had to put that sign up.

After PT, I walked to work and grabbed a large coffee and yogurt from Pret a Manger on 32nd street. The manager basically won’t let me pay for coffee, she’s one of my favorite people on earth.

Last night I put lights on my Christmas tree and watched Killing Eve with my girlfriend. I don’t know how I missed that show’s initial run but it’s awesome. It’s like the Bourne movies with Sandra Oh, only she doesn’t have amnesia and she’s less paranoid and only one person wants to kill her but, yeah, other than that, totally the same.

(This was make-up post 21. Twenty more to go. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry and God bless you.)